


An Angel and A Witch

by TheLadyOfManyFandoms



Series: Winchestered One-Shots [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hell, Pain, Witchcraft, and other things, crowley being ... soft, here be fluff, humour of sorts, sugar-coated romance, summoning spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:12:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyOfManyFandoms/pseuds/TheLadyOfManyFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You, an angel, are summoned by the last person you’d expect. </p><p>
  <i>Based off 10x10 – The Hunter Games for reasons such as Castiel being the most adorable angel there is! And Crowley being … Crowley. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel and A Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Written because Rowena is really getting under my skin! Come on, Crowley! She’s playing you! Hope you all enjoy ^.^  
> Leave a comment because they are always awesome and I love replying!
> 
>  
> 
> _I don't own Supernatural, its characters or you!_

“Look, if I could make it better, then I would.” Dean said honestly and closed the file he was reading. 

Castiel had come to speak to the Winchesters on the matter of Claire. He, as an Angel of the Lord, was equipped to deal with many things and creatures, but an angsty teenager was not one of them. 

“It’s actually why I’m here.” Castiel told the brothers, catching their attention, “I was hoping that you might reach out to her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” Castiel said firmly, not dulling the look of surprise on Dean’s face.

“Seriously? I’m probably the last person she would wanna hear from.” Dean argued.

“I thought there would be a connection, one extremely messed human to another.” Castiel shrugged. You walked in with a plated sandwich and raised an eyebrow,

“No need to sugar coat it, Cas.” You chuckled as you headed over to where the angel had taken a seat. You sat on the table and swung your legs over the edge playfully. Castiel looked up at you, 

“You could talk to Claire, as well. She’d respond better if she was dealing with another female.” He said. You frowned at him,

“Do I look messed up?” you pouted. Castiel tilted his head and sighed,

“You’re a hunter, your guardian angel’s brother murdered you through your real brother’s body and turned you into an angel, you have a demon hot on your wings, you--”

“Alright, I get it! I’m just as messed up as anyone in this building.” You confessed, silencing Castiel’s accurate list. 

“Okay, sure. I’ll talk to Claire and see if I can get through to her.” You told your angel who smiled happily. You stuck your tongue out at Castiel,

“Stop smiling like an idiot.” You laughed.

“I believe idiots smile in the same way as ordinary people.” Castiel told you pointedly. 

Dean sighed with a roll of his eyes and Sam chuckled softly as he returned to stare at his laptop. You grinned at Castiel and kissed him sweetly before pulling away in slight pain. You put a hand to your head and closed your eyes with a heavy sigh. Dean and Sam looked over at you with a flicker of worry while Castiel put a gentle hand on your arm,

“What is it?” he asked. You opened your eyes and looked at the three of them,

“I’m being summoned downstairs, which means that it’s probably Crowley.” You replied, “He might have information on the First Blade or the Mark.” 

“I’ll come with you.” 

“No, Cas. You should stay here. Crowley might not talk if you’re with me.” You told him gently. 

True enough, Crowley always withheld information whenever Castiel was present. Frowning at the thought of leaving his angel with the King of Hell, Castiel pulled you towards him and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Just be careful.” He advised and with a gentle flutter of wings, you disappeared from their sights.

When you opened your eyes, you looked upon the familiar sight of Crowley’s throne room in Hell. Dark, musty, smelt like burning flesh and whiskey – just the way he liked it. Turning towards the throne, you found that the seat was empty, but – on the table – there was a bowl with the necessary ingredients for your specific summoning spell.

“Crowley, you can’t keep summoning me like this.” You called out with an irritated sigh. 

Suddenly, you were engulfed in a ring of fire which took you by surprise. You spun around and looked at the holy fire with terror. You hated being trapped inside the ring. It made you feel vulnerable, like a bird in a thorn bush. You always knew that Crowley had a holy fire trap on the ground but he had promised that he would never use it. Of course, Crowley was the King of Demons so lying was natural, but you were treated differently. 

Footsteps walked into the room and you whirled around to see a thin woman with red hair walk in. You remembered her as Crowley’s witch-mother and last laid eyes on her when she was in the dungeon. Crowley complained about the way she treated him as a child and it seemed like she manipulated her way out. 

“My word, that summoning spell works fast, doesn’t it?” Rowena wondered with a smile. You glared at the witch and watched as she stalked around the fire to the pedestal. Rowena looked through the contents of the bowl and smiled to herself,

“You angels should be careful with who you give summoning spells to.” She told you. 

“Crowley tortured an angel to get mine. I never gave it to him.” You returned coldly, the memory of Samandriel burning a hole in your heart.

“Oh, that’s my boy!” Rowena chirped as she plucked out the charred feather of a fallen angel. 

Rowena walked over to you with the feather and blew lightly on it before reciting a spell. There was a puff of smoke and the feather was replaced, or rather transformed, with a doll made of straws of hay. 

A doll that looked eerily like an angel. 

“I believe you are familiar with witchcraft?” Rowena asked as she stroked the doll. You took a step back and looked from the hay figure to Rowena with worry.

“Oh, so you know what this is. Good,” Rowena chuckled in her high Scottish-accent, “I can skip the boring explanation and get to the fun part.” 

Rowena’s smile turned into something sinister within a second and she wrapped her hand around the dolls head and squeezed. You felt like you were going to faint as your head exploded with excruciating pain. You couldn’t help but clawed at your (h/c) hair and scream as Rowena tightened her grip, until finally you fell to your knees. 

You heard Rowena cackle above and looked up. The Witch was enjoying the pain of an angel far too much. You took deep breaths to recover from the attack and tried to focus on calling Castiel through angel radio. Unfortunately, you were in too much pain to use your telepathic powers. You were thrown into another wave of pain when Rowena gripped her fingers around the doll’s mid-section and pressed her thumbs against its chest. 

You heard a snap, or two, and coughed up blood when you tried to cry out. Broken ribs would be the least of your problems if you didn’t get out or find someone to help. There was another snap and, if you had been human, you surely would have passed out. 

This was one of those rare times where you were grateful for Lucifer killing you and forcing you to become an angel. 

“What in Hell is going on?!” a third voice boomed from behind.

Rowena released her grip on the hay doll and tossed it into the fire. You were freed from the witch’s curse and collapsed in the middle of the ring as Crowley entered. He walked over to his mother and noticed the summoning bowl behind her and you inside the holy fire. 

Snapping his fingers, Crowley extinguished the deadly flames and rushed over to check if you were still breathing. He completely missed the scowl on his mother’s face for showing more attention to the angel.

“(Y/n), darling, are you alright?” Crowley asked. You opened your eyes quickly and took in a deep breath, which you instantly regretted. Spitting out the last of the blood from your mouth, you looked up at Crowley and Rowena.

“If you ever summon me again, I will kill you.” You warned. 

Crowley looked at you with sympathy and reached out to help but you disappeared just as quick. Leaving the demon to question his mother on what took place while he was out.

Dean walked around the Bunker as he resisted the urge to drive an Angel blade into Metatron’s head. He paced around the world-table and occasionally glanced at the papers scattered on it. When Dean looked at the table for the fifth time, he heard a familiar rustle of wings behind him. 

“Cas, the Mark is…” Dean said as he turned around to face the angel only to be confronted with his sister, “(Y/n)?” 

You were in a terrible way and fell forward into Dean’s arms helplessly. Dean lowered your passed out form to the ground and called your name once more to retrieve a response. Getting nothing, Dean called for his brother,

“Sammy!” Dean shouted. Within a minute, Sam ran through a door and found Dean with you on the floor on the Bunker. He rushed to the pair and put a hand on your head while looking at Dean,

“Did you call Cas?” Sam wondered and instantly the angel appeared beside them. 

Castiel put a hand over your chest and healed you with his diminishing Grace. You awoke after your injuries had healed with a sharp intake of air and looked up at the worried faces staring back. 

“Was this Crowley?” Dean asked as he clenched his fist. You shook your head and sat up,

“No, but I feel his mother will cause us a problem or two.”


End file.
